


Ring of Fire

by WereKem



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, phoenix!McCree, supernatural/monsters au, this isn't marked as character death because he's FINE I PROMISE, very mild bondage, werewolf!Hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17445461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WereKem/pseuds/WereKem
Summary: The moment Hanzo learned he could not live without without Jesse McCree was the moment he watched his cowboy die.





	1. Love is a Burning Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is is the combination of my SFW/NSFW pieces for the Strange Oddities McHanzo zine! I'm so excited to share them with you-- I hope you like it.
> 
> A big thanks to my betas, [Ashe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheRhyder/pseuds/AsheRhyder) and Soap, and the absolutely **phenomenal** artists who drew for these stories. I'll link their specific art pieces if/when they post them, but for now please visit their social media and support them:
> 
>  
> 
> [Cuteskitty](https://twitter.com/cuteskittyart)  
> [Zet_Sifo](https://twitter.com/RK_Zet)  
> [Pinchahs](https://www.instagram.com/pinchahs/)  
> [WhCardinal](https://twitter.com/WhCardinal)  
> [Rey art-rmlb](https://art-rmlb.tumblr.com)

Hanzo’s entire life was made up of memorable moments—thoughts, decisions, actions, and more mistakes than he’d ever admit to, but all moments he remembered with clarity. The moments that were most important, though—the moments that defined him, shaped him, the moments that solidified at his center and took up residence in his heart—were the moments that he’d learned what he could live with, and what he couldn’t live without. The first of these moments came years ago, on the night he’d refused to murder his brother for the clan.  
  
The moment Hanzo learned he could not live without without Jesse McCree was the moment he watched his cowboy die.   
  
Their mission was in Ilios, where intel showed evidence of Talon operatives at the old ruins, and Winston had sent a handful of agents to investigate further. Unluckily enough, they had severely underestimated Talon’s numbers and had gotten ambushed at the center of the ruins. Pinned and cut off from their drop-ship, they did their best to keep Talon at bay while Symmetra charged her teleporter.   
  
It seemed like they were making progress when Hanzo heard footsteps to his left, where he’d taken up the high ground. He spun, putting an arrow into the head of the Talon agent who had been trying to sneak up on him. The loud crack of a sniper rifle echoed ominously in his ears in the next instant, and by the time Hanzo turned back McCree lay face-down on the ground. For the briefest moment, he felt the world stand still beneath him.   
  
Emotion flooded back in a rush, rage and a great, heart-rending grief drowning out everything else. Red seeped into the edges of Hanzo’s vision and he felt his whole being shudder right down to his bones as he began to shift. Muscles flexed and pulsed as his spirits howled for release; hair thickened to fur and sprouted across his body. His nose elongated and his ears reformed to move higher on his head. Pain lanced through Hanzo’s every nerve, every sensation searing as he grew too big for his own skin. He ignored it even as his clothes shredded around him, and let his anger boil over and consume him.   
  
The next minutes blurred together as he fell on the Talon agents that remained.   
  
“Hanzo!” Angela’s voice snapped like electricity down his spine. His chest was heaving, and his fur stuck to his skin. He was staring at the mangled body of a Talon agent.   
  
“Hanzo, Satya’s Photon Barrier cannot hold forever.” This time the urgency in Angela’s voice drew his attention. Hanzo looked up at the towering wall of blue light, then to where Angela crouched next to McCree.   
  
Jesse.   
  
Hanzo was kneeling by his cowboy’s body in the next instant. His chest tightened with each breath as he registered Jesse’s closed eyes, the stillness of his chest, and the unnatural chill of the man who was usually a walking, talking furnace.   
  
“Can you revive him?”   
  
Angela made a soft noise of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Hanzo. My magic doesn’t work on a phoenix like McCree. You will need to trust me when I say phoenixes have their own resurrection magic. I have seen McCree do this before, but we must bring him to his nest. Quickly.”  


* * *

  
  
With reverent delicacy, Hanzo laid Jesse’s unnaturally still body down on the soft bed of his nest. He paused before he pulled away and traced the lines of his cowboy’s face with gentle hands. As he let his fingers trail down Jesse’s jaw, through his beard and along his neck to where the golden lines of his feathery markings peeked out above his serape, he remembered the last time he’d been in this room. They’d been together a few months by then, recently returned from a mission, and Jesse had brought back a beautiful bolt of cloth in turquoise and gleaming yellow as a souvenir.   
  
“And this is important for your nest?” Hanzo asked as Jesse led him to the fortified room he used. It was specially built and removed from the rest of the base.   
  
“Feels like it is,” Jesse answered cryptically. Before Hanzo could ask further, they passed the secure fire door that could be sealed if Jesse’s burn grew out of control, and came to an open space with a glass observation wall that looked into McCree’s nest. It was the first time Hanzo had seen Jesse’s resurrection room, and he stopped immediately to wonder at it.   
  
The brilliance of colour that flooded his view was overwhelming. Fabrics of every colour, some of which even Hanzo had never seen before, covered nearly every surface. Tables made of a variety of woods in varying shapes lined the walls, each covered in knickknacks _—_ _more cloth, wooden carvings, woven straw bowls filled with spices, paperback books, dried flowers_ _—_ _Hanzo couldn’t discern a single empty surface among them. At the center of the room a wooden bed frame was piled high with blankets and pillows as bright as the rest of the space._   
  
Jesse appeared in the room in the next moment, having gone around to a door Hanzo hadn’t previously noticed. He flicked out the beautiful swath of fabric and laid it at the foot of the bed just as the scent of the room finally drifted to Hanzo’s nose. The smell of cinnamon, myrrh, cardamom, and clove, underlined by wood and smoke, invaded his senses. It was Jesse’s unique scent amplified a hundred times over. Hanzo wanted to drown in it.   
  
“Will you take his hat? Jesse will be very upset if it burns.” Angela’s voice pulled Hanzo back to the present. “You can leave Jesse’s serape, though. It’s made of phoenix down and will not burn.” Hanzo very carefully removed Jesse’s hat as directed, smoothing his hair as he did.   
  
“He does not have feathers.“   
  
Angela looked up from her inspection of the room and gave Hanzo a small smile. “He does not, but he swears it’s phoenix down. It’s survived every resurrection I’ve witnessed.”   
  
As they left Jesse’s nest, Hanzo finally gave in to the question that had been gnawing at him.  
  
“How long before he…revives?“   
  
Angela glanced at him briefly. “It varies…” she began. “He must gather energy before the burn can start. The sun helps, which is why the ceiling retracts. Depending on the severity of his injuries, the state and quality of his nest, and the speed with which he gathers energy, it can be hours or days.”   
  
Angela left soon after that and Hanzo, finally alone, slumped into a chair, gaze fixated on the cowboy within. Was it just him, or did Jesse’s skin look more grey? Was that supposed to happen? Amid the bright vibrancy of the room, Jesse’s body looked out of place. Hanzo’s heart twisted in his chest.   
  
He’d failed. It had been his job to spot threats. He’d had the best vantage; he should have seen the sniper. If he had, Jesse wouldn’t be dead. And what if Jesse didn’t resurrect this time? Hanzo’s stomach dropped and the air froze in his lungs at the thought.   
  
The hours ticked by quietly. Genji visited with dinner, but even he could not coax more than a handful of words from Hanzo. Even the appearance of his spirits could not bring him any comfort, and the night passed with even more agonizing slowness as Hanzo watched Jesse’s body remain still and unchanging. Guilt and doubt clawed at Hanzo’s stomach with each passing second.   


* * *

  
It was high noon the next day when Jesse’s nest ignited.   
  
The screen on the nearest wall beeped out a shrill warning and flashed a flood of text that Hanzo ignored. Instead, Hanzo leapt to his feet, eyes transfixed by the flames that engulfed the room. This was no slow burn; flames swallowed the room in seconds, burning bright and hot and wild. Hanzo stepped as close to the flame-warded glass as he dared and still felt the heat from the fire beyond seep through. 

He lost track of time as Jesse burned and the beeping behind him continued. It could have been minutes or hours, but when finally— _finally_ _—_ the flames receded and died down, Hanzo’s breath caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him.   
  
Jesse sat among the ashes of the burned out room, serape draped over his lap. Every inch of him was covered in ash, but the golden lines of his feathery markings shone through even the thickest layers, blazing with brilliant light down his neck and shoulders all the way to his wrists. Hanzo knew the lines continued down Jesse’s back; he’d traced each one with his fingers and mouth, kissed them until he had every line memorized. Even Jesse’s metal prosthetic, built and warded to withstand his resurrection, bore golden etchings to match.   
  
When Jesse looked up, it was with eyes of luminous molten gold. His gaze met Hanzo’s, and Hanzo felt the tension drain from his shoulders. Jesse’s lips curled into a smile more blinding than anything Hanzo had witnessed yet, and he reached up to tip an imaginary hat in greeting.   
  
“Howdy, darlin’. Miss me?”


	2. Bound By Wild Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is is the combination of my SFW/NSFW pieces for the Strange Oddities McHanzo zine! I'm so excited to share them with you-- I hope you like it.
> 
> A big thanks to my beta, [Ashe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheRhyder/pseuds/AsheRhyder), and the absolutely **phenomenal** artists who drew for these stories. I'll link their specific art pieces if/when they post them, but for now please visit their social media and support them:
> 
> [Cuteskitty](https://twitter.com/cuteskittyart)  
> [Zet_Sifo](https://twitter.com/RK_Zet)  
> [Pinchahs](https://www.instagram.com/pinchahs/)  
> [WhCardinal](https://twitter.com/WhCardinal)  
> [Rey art-rmlb](https://art-rmlb.tumblr.com)

Released from Angela’s care and smelling faintly of the soap from the medbay shower, Jesse pressed Hanzo against the door of their room as soon as it closed behind them. He licked and nipped eagerly at the swell of Hanzo’s lips, hoping to coax him into deepening the kiss. Energy buzzed under his skin, residual embers from his resurrection that left him hot to the touch and with the aching need to devour and be devoured in return.  
  
When Hanzo replied with slow, light touches, Jesse bit more aggressively at his bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, and sucked until it was swollen. Hanzo’s touch remained light. When Jesse’s hands reached out to tear at Hanzo’s clothes, eager to get him undressed, Hanzo caught and stilled them.  
  
Every enthusiastic nip Jesse made met with a soft slide of lips and tongue from Hanzo. The gentle caresses were sweet—very sweet—but adrenaline and life burned through Jesse’s veins, setting him on edge. He didn’t want slow and sweet, he needed heated and rushed and greedy. He wanted to feel Hanzo around him, filling him.  
  
Hanzo, however, seemed determined to go slow. His hands brushed across Jesse’s shoulders and worked their way up his neck before they slid further to pet at his beard and cup his jaw. Each touch was slow, tender, agonizing—far too cool compared to the blazing inferno that normally consumed them. It was almost hesitant.      
  
Something clicked in the back of Jesse’s mind. They’d had discussions around his nature and his ability to resurrect, but Jesse hadn’t needed to use it since before the recall. Since before Hanzo. Jesse broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together.  
  
“You can stop treating me like I’m made of glass anytime, sweetheart.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Hanzo met his gaze, but beneath the stubborn line of his brow Jesse saw darkness reflected in his eyes. Concern. Worry. Jesse’s heart stuttered. Fear.  
  
“I’m right here, darlin’. I ain’t going to leave you,” Jesse murmured.  
  
He knew he’d said the right thing when the tense line of Hanzo’s shoulders trembled then slumped, and a growl rumbled low and deep in his chest. The sound shot straight through Jesse; it stoked the fire that simmered low in his belly and pulsed through his cock. Hanzo’s nose flared as he inhaled, and his eyes darkened.  
  
Jesse wasn’t surprised when Hanzo pressed forward without warning and crowded him back towards their bed. Jesse stumbled backward as eager hands followed him to tug impatiently at his flannel. Jesse tried to help only to have his hands batted away, and he couldn’t stop the grin that split his face when Hanzo’s whole body rippled.  
  
Jesse caught Hanzo’s mouth in another kiss at the same time Hanzo began to shift. He chased Hanzo’s mouth as his archer grew until he towered over Jesse. Their kisses became sloppy as Hanzo’s tongue became too big for Jesse’s mouth and his jaw elongated, but Jesse didn’t mind. It felt like Hanzo was trying to swallow him whole, and Jesse wanted nothing more than to let him.  
  
“You _died_ ,” Hanzo ground out when they finally parted. His voice was deeper in his wolf form, rougher, and the sound vibrated through Jesse from head to toe. Fingers, thicker and covered in fur, tore Jesse’s shirt open with enough ferocity that buttons skittered across the room.  
  
“I came back.” Jesse pulled at Hanzo’s rapidly tightening shirt in return, mindful of the fur Hanzo now sported. “I’ll always come back.”  
  
As soon as Jesse freed Hanzo from his shirt, his archer’s rough hands were on him again. Hanzo spun him and pushed him until his knees hit the bed before yanking Jesse’s shirt down his shoulders. He felt one of Hanzo’s hands fist in the soft material and twist, jerking Jesse’s arms back and trapping them.  
  
“Fuck, darlin’, yes,” Jesse groaned. Hanzo manipulated him with such easy strength that it made Jesse’s heart race and sent more heat flooding through him; lava through veins that were already filled with fire.  
  
Hanzo’s mouth on his shoulder caught his attention, and Jesse shivered as Hanzo’s rough tongue and the sharp points of his teeth dragged across his skin. Hanzo’s free hand came up to splay across his collar possessively, and Jesse arched into his touch, grinding back against him. The thick bulge of Hanzo’s erection pressed tantalizingly against Jesse’s ass, making him just that much more aware of how empty he felt.  
  
Hanzo raked his meticulously blunted claws down Jesse’s chest in retaliation. His fingers stopped at Jesse’s nipple, pinching the budded flesh. Pleasure and pain sparked across his skin, igniting nerves, and Jesse whimpered.  
  
“You like that, my sun?” Hanzo purred.  
  
“You know I do, sweetheart.” Jesse’s voice trembled, already hoarse with need.  
  
Hanzo chuckled and palmed the swell of his pectoral more fully, squeezing and kneading as Jesse struggled to press into the touch. Hanzo pinched the nipple one last time before he continued his downward path. Jesse’s skin prickled under his touch, and he flexed his arms to tug at the confines of his shirt as Hanzo brushed along the particularly sensitive planes of his stomach.  
  
“Hey now,” Jesse bit out as he squirmed. “None of that!”  
  
Hanzo huffed in amusement as he dragged his hand down further. His fingers carded through the hair on Jesse’s stomach before finding the drawstring of his pants. Two quick motions and the pants loosened around his hips enough that Hanzo could push them down. They were barely at his knees when Hanzo shoved him again. His world tilted and Jesse tumbled face-first into the bed with a grunt.  
  
Before he could form a coherent retort to the rough treatment, Hanzo climbed onto the bed behind him. The cold tip of his nose on Jesse’s ass left him gasping and tensing, but then Hanzo’s tongue darted out and found his balls, and a shudder wracked his spine. It was hot and wet, a sharp contrast to Hanzo’s nose, and it pressed eagerly into the soft skin that led to his perineum. Jesse wriggled his hips, and pressed back against Hanzo in a plea for more.  
  
“ _Hanzo_.” The name fell from his lips like a prayer, breathy and low. Hanzo’s free hand dug into the swell of his ass and pulled his cheeks farther apart.  
  
“Don’t worry, my sun, I’ll take care of you.” Hanzo’s words were followed by a swipe of his tongue over the tight pucker of Jesse’s ass. Jesse cursed and his hips bucked.  
  
Hanzo’s tongue circled languidly, pressing with teasing pressure before he withdrew once more to continue his torturous licks. Jesse bucked again and the hand still tangled in his shirt pressed him down to still his struggles. He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and Hanzo hummed smugly against his skin. The sound went right to Jesse’s dick where it was trapped beneath him, hard and weeping.  
  
Finally, _finally_ , Hanzo’s tongue pressed past the ring of muscle, stretching and impaling Jesse slowly on its girth. Jesse couldn’t stop the tangle of curses and praise that spilled from his lips as Hanzo worked his tongue deeper, each time pulling back only to fuck further in on the next thrust.  
  
Hanzo’s hand disappeared from his ass, leaving his face buried in the thick swell, tongue working heatedly against him, but Jesse hardly noticed—not until Hanzo pulled away to replace his tongue with a lubed finger. Jesse wondered briefly when Hanzo had found time to slick his fingers, but then Hanzo pressed in and all coherent thought fled his mind.  
  
There was hardly any stretch after Hanzo’s tongue, but Jesse still squirmed and clenched, unable to stop his hips from thrusting back in short, aborted movements. He twisted, fighting against Hanzo’s arm on his back so he could look over his shoulder.  
  
Hanzo’s eyes met his, dark, amused, and hungry in his lupine face. His lips stretched into a smile, an unnatural expression with Hanzo’s too-sharp teeth, and he returned his gaze to where his finger was slowly working itself in and out of Jesse’s ass.  
  
“So good for me. Look at you squeeze around my finger. Only one, and yet you’re already so greedy.” An embarrassed whine bubbled up from Jesse’s throat, and he turned to bury his face in the sheets once more. Hanzo softly tsked behind him, and the grip on his shirt finally loosened. A moment later his hand slid beneath Jesse’s jaw to coax him back.  
  
“No,” Hanzo murmured, touch gentle but tone firm. “I want to see you, my sun. I want to see the pleasure in your eyes as I touch you.”  
  
Jesse peered out from beneath his lashes. Hanzo knelt behind him, a wall of muscle and fur. His ears were raised sharply in attention, his eyes intent on Jesse’s face. Eventually satisfied he wouldn’t hide his face once more, Hanzo withdrew his finger only to press back in with two. Jesse moaned unabashedly and squeezed down around them, and Hanzo rumbled approvingly as he began working his fingers in a steady rhythm. The slow drag in and out eventually morphed into scissoring, and when Hanzo’s fingers found his prostate, Jesse keened. Sharp, electric pleasure raced up his spine, so intense he bowed his back trying to chase the sensation.  
  
“Han—Darlin’—Sweetheart, _please_.”  
  
“Please what, my sun?” It was Jesse’s turn to growl, his forehead creasing as he shot Hanzo a frustrated look. Hanzo curled his lips into a wolfish approximation of a smirk.  
  
“Shit, Hanzo—You want me to say it that bad? I want you to fuck me. I want your knot. Remind me what it feels like to be alive again, dammit!”  
  
Hanzo snarled at that. A rough hand jerked at Jesse’s pants, pulling them the rest of the way off. Legs free, Jesse shifted to his knees and spread his legs further. He moaned eagerly when he was rewarded by a third finger joining the first two.  
  
Hanzo’s pace picked up as well, and his fingers began working in sharp, precise movements. Each plunge jolted Jesse’s prostate, sending him spiraling, and still he wanted more. Hanzo worked in a fourth and the stretch left Jesse panting, but it didn’t last long as Hanzo’s patience finally waned.  
  
Jesse whined in complaint when Hanzo finally withdrew his fingers and left him empty and wanting, but he didn’t wait long. The thick, blunt head of Hanzo’s cock pressed against the gape of his asshole. Jesse flexed against the light pressure and fucked his hips backwards against his wolf. Hanzo moaned behind him and pressed in.  
  
The slide was slow and delicious, and it satisfied something deep in his core. Jesse could feel his cock jump and twitch as Hanzo slowly fucked deeper, until his hips pressed flush to Jesse’s ass.  
  
“My sun.” Hanzo’s voice had gone raspy, a sign he was on the edge of his control. “You are so good for me.”  
  
His wolf only needed the smallest of pushes, and Jesse knew just the thing.  
  
“Ah—ah— _Mate_ —”

  
Hanzo’s fingers tightened bruisingly, and his next thrust was punishing. Jesse cried out, a wordless noise of approval as Hanzo drove into him.  
  
Hanzo thrust again, and again, and again, the head of his cock brushing mercilessly over the swollen bundle of nerves. With each outward drag, the slowly swelling knot at the base of Hanzo’s length grew, pulling at his abused rim. Pressure built low in Jesse’s stomach, even the soft texture of their sheets too much for his sensitive flesh, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.  
  
“My sun—Jesse—hnn, Mate, I am close.”  
  
The fat swell of Hanzo’s knot finally grew too big to pull out and, with a groan, Hanzo ground his hips roughly against Jesse. The fullness was heady, and the pressure against his prostate bordered on painful. Jesse could feel the muscles in his thighs tremble with the effort to meet Hanzo’s thrusts, but he was so close. Just one more—  
  
Hanzo’s hips twitched, the angle shifting slightly, and Jesse sobbed as his orgasm rolled over him. Stars danced across his vision as his cock pulsed, spurting thick ropes of cum against his stomach and the sheets. Behind him, Hanzo practically howled as Jesse clamped down around his knot, and Jesse felt Hanzo’s dick throb as he came.  
  
They stayed that way for long moments, Jesse slumped against the mattress, only held up by Hanzo’s broad hands and the knotted length buried inside him. When Hanzo shifted to press a kiss to the back of Jesse’s neck, bolts of painful pleasure radiated across his skin from where they remained joined. Jesse whimpered and Hanzo hushed him, shifting them to lay on their sides while they remained locked together. Jesse felt Hanzo’s fingers move to trace over the markings on his shoulder and he pressed back into the solid, furry bulk of his mate, reveling in the warmth and strength of him.  
  
“I meant it.”  
  
Hanzo made a tired, questioning noise at Jesse’s words, and paused in his exploration of Jesse’s skin.  
  
“I’ll always come back to you. Not even death could keep me away.”


End file.
